


What the Heart Sees

by Aglarien



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 05:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12905304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aglarien/pseuds/Aglarien
Summary: Written for Tuxedo Elf for the 2011 My Slashy Valentine Exchange.Request: Orophin/Galion.  Based in Lothlórien. Some plot, not just fluff. Tea. Cultural differences. A painting. A happy ending.





	What the Heart Sees

Title: What the Heart Sees  
Author: Aglarien  
Fandom: LOTR  
Rype: FCS  
Characters: Rúmil/Galion  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: The great master Tolkien and his estate own it all; I own nothing.  
Setting: Lothlórien, sometime in the 2nd millennia of the Third Age  
Warnings: none  
Beta: the awesome Keiliss

 

Orophin stood near the rushing Nimrodel, his brothers beside him as they watched the approaching party of wood elves. Nimrodel’s music, for once, could not calm him; his body fairly throbbed with excitement.   
“Calm yourself, brother,” Rúmil breathed. “It may be the first time you have greeted visitors, but remember you represent the Lord and Lady.”   
Haldir stood a bit to the front of his younger brothers, hiding his smile. He remembered when he was a young guardian, remembered the excitement of being sent for the first time to greet strangers to their land. Orophin would mature into a fine Marchwarden one day.  
Rúmil watched the party from Mirkwood as they approached. “I recognize Erynion and Berior,” he said to Haldir, speaking of Thranduil’s ambassador and the captain who led the patrol, “but who is the other elf they are escorting?”  
Haldir smiled. “’Tis Galion, Thranduil’s butler and wine steward. Do you see the pack horses among them burdened with kegs?” His smile turned into a grin. “Thranduil has sent a shipment of wine.”  
Greetings were exchanged and the visitors were escorted to the heart of the realm. Rúmil left them before they reached the center of the city, leading the Mirkwood guards to their quarters in the Lothlórien barracks. When Haldir and Orophin escorted the remaining party of wood elves to Caras Galadhon and climbed the long, winding steps to meet the Lord and Lady, Orophin was shocked to be asked to stay. He stood in the back, unable to keep his active mind from wandering as Celeborn and Galadriel greeted the visiting elves.   
The pleasantries finally concluded, Orophin started when he heard his name and he was requested to show Galion to his quarters. He was relieved from his normal duties and assigned as a guide to Thranduil’s butler, tasked with ensuring Galion enjoyed his first stay in Lothlórien.  
“It will be my honor, my Lady,” Orophin replied to Galadriel’s request. He bowed and surreptitiously scanned the room, realizing in an instant that Haldir was escorting Mirkwood’s captain away while Celeborn himself was seeing Ambassador Erynion to his quarters.   
Orophin looked at Galion with stolen glances as he escorted the butler to his guest talon. The wood elf was as tall as Orophin and comely - beautiful even. He walked with an elegance that mimicked the elves of Lórien, something that surprised the younger Orophin. He had always heard that Thranduil’s elves were lighthearted and playful; he did not expect to find such grace in them. The elves of Imladris he had always found to be graceful, but they were related to the Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond himself was descended from a High King, was he not?   
They reached the guest talon and Orophin led the way up the wide, flowing stairs. As he opened the door for Galion to pass into the room, he said, “I hope you will be comfortable here. There is a sitting room, and bedroom, and your own bathing chamber. The servants will bring water for you every evening before dinner for your bath. That is still a few hours away, but I see that someone has left you a tea tray. Servants will bring you breakfast, your midday meal, and tea each day, but you will be expected to join our Lord and Lady in the dining hall for dinner each evening.” He hesitated at the door, uncertain if he would be wanted or if he should just leave and come back later to escort Galion to dinner. “Is there anything else you require?” he finally asked.  
“Nothing at the moment, thank you,” Galion said, smiling to himself as he noticed the young elf’s uncertainty. He must be the first visitor that Orophin had escorted. He had met Haldir whenever the eldest of the three brothers had traveled to Mirkwood, and had heard much of Haldir’s younger brothers, but he hadn’t expected to find the youngest quite so enchanting. He was quite certain that such a young, attractive elf wouldn’t be interested in such an old and wizened elf as he, but there was nothing to keep Galion from looking and enjoying the young one’s company. Well, perhaps wizened wasn’t a very good description. He had neither the beard of Círdan nor the wrinkles of Men, but he was old by anyone’s standards, although he still considered himself more than presentable in any society. “Come and sit and take tea with me,” he said, “and tell me about this beautiful realm that I have finally gotten to visit.”  
“You have not been here before?” Orophin inquired, shutting the door behind them and moving further into the room.   
Galion shook his head, glancing around the room and into the bedroom, noticing his traveling pack had been left on his bed. “Ah, I see some kind soul has also left fresh water and towels on the washstand in the bedroom. We must wash before our tea. You may, of course, avail yourself of my washstand as well.”  
Orophin stopped and held his palms up to his face as Galion proceeded into the bedroom. His hands weren’t dirty. At home he would simply have scrubbed them on his leggings and grabbed one of the delicious looking cakes from the tea tray. Guards did not always have the luxury of fresh water for washing. Not wanting to offend their guest, he followed Galion into the bedroom and quietly washed and dried his hands.  
Once they had returned to the sitting room and were seated before the table that held the tea tray, Orophin asked, “Would you like me to pour the tea, Master Galion?”  
Galion raised an eyebrow. “One does not merely pour afternoon tea, young Orophin, and I am simply Galion. The preparing of high tea is a gracious art that must be carefully followed and savored. You are my guest, and I will prepare your tea.” Thus said, he set to work readying their afternoon repast.  
Orophin watched Galion prepare the cups of tea, carefully measuring out honey and cream and pouring the brew. After asking Orophin which of the cakes he preferred, Galion arranged them on a plate before finally passing cup and plate to his guest.  
Orophin took the offered plate and asked, his brow slightly furrowed in thought, “May I ask you a question?”  
“Yes, of course,” Galion replied, fixing his own plate.   
Orophin hesitated. “I…I do not mean to offend, but I have always heard that the elves of the Greenwood are more…lighthearted than we, and do not adhere to many of the normal customs and social graces, preferring to spend their time in making merry, yet you talk of a proper high tea.”  
Galion pursed his lips firmly to keep from spurting out the sip of tea he had just taken. He quickly set down his plate and held his napkin over his mouth before peals of laughter rang out. “Where on earth did you hear that?” he finally sputtered.  
“Well…erm…around,” Orophin finally managed. “Just things that are said.”  
“I’ll warrant Haldir does not say such things, does he?” At Orophin’s agreement, Galion continued, “We elves of the Greenwood enjoy fine food and drink, as well as dance and play, but we do not live our lives for merriment. Aside from protecting our people from the evil which dwells in our forest, we trade with the Men of Lake Town, grow and harvest our crops, weave our cloth, breed our animals, fish our rivers, and build our dwellings. We could not do that if all we did was play – we are no different than the elves of Lothlórien or Imladris.”  
“I beg pardon, Galion. I did not mean to offend,” Orophin replied, suitably cowed.   
“You did not offend, young one. Now, finish your tea while you tell me of life in Lothlórien.”  
The following morning, after they had broken their fast together in Galion’s rooms, the two elves set out on foot to explore the charms of Lothlórien. Two hours later, they rested at the foot of a small waterfall, along side the flowing rivulet. “Such beauty and peace here,” Galion said, utterly charmed by the fair land of Lórien. “There is no evil here. Never have I felt such safety. How very different from Mirkwood, where one must always be careful when we venture into the woods.”  
“No evil enters our borders, thanks to the protection of the Lady. It is said that visitors cannot discern the passing of time here, but I do not know. I have never left its borders,” Orophin replied.   
“Never?” Galion asked, his face registering his surprise. “I thought since Haldir frequently travels to other lands that you would as well.”  
“Neither Rúmil nor I have ever left Lothlórien,” Orophin replied. “Not everyone here wishes to leave and see other lands.”  
“Do you wish to travel and see other lands?” Galion asked.   
“Very much,” Orophin said wistfully. “Perhaps one day Lord Celeborn will send me somewhere. I would like to see Imladris, and of course your land.”  
Galion smiled. “Then perhaps one day you will. Perhaps one day.” He rose and straightened his robes. “Come, show me where you live, if you will. Your description of the home you share with your brothers has me intrigued.”  
Orophin led the way, sneaking furtive glances at Galion over his shoulder as they walked. Galion was very comely and he was becoming very attracted to the elder elf. He knew Galion would never consider him as anything other than a youngster, at least for a long time, but he could still dream.  
When they reached his home and climbed the stairs to the talon, Orophin was relieved that he had taken the time that morning to sweep up and pick up the clothing and various belongings that the brothers always seemed to leave here and there – and never in their right places. Haldir had been assigned to Berior as his guide, and Orophin suspected that his elder brother and Mirkwood’s captain were taking their midday meal in the barracks. Rúmil, he knew, was with a group of the guards patrolling the borders.   
As he held the door open for Galion to enter, Orophin said, “You are welcome here, Galion.”  
Thranduil’s butler entered the modest home and nodded approvingly at the spacious main room. “You have a lovely home,” he said. “It is warm and inviting.” Galion held out a cloth bag to the younger elf. They had stopped at his guest talon to collect the contents of the tray with his midday meal the servants had left there. Galion did not hold with wasting food; the fruit, cheese and bread would make a nice contribution to their shared repast.  
“Thank you,” Orophin said with a smile and a slight bow. “Please, make yourself at home while I prepare our lunch.”  
Left to his own resources for the moment, Galion circled the room. A large, full bookcase attested to one or more of the brothers’ love of reading. The comfortable looking chairs and chaises were garbed in soothing shades of the forest; a large table for dining or work was sturdily made with fine craftsmanship. He examined the paintings on the walls, all of them scenes of the splendor of Lothlórien. One corner of the room held an easel and chair, the easel covered with a homespun cloth. Carefully removing the cloth, he uncovered a painting, as yet unfinished, its character very different from the paintings on the wall. The unfinished painting was more stylized, with defined lines and edges, and brighter colors. It depicted a sheltered grove with murmuring brook, fountain and statues, clothed in a blaze of wildflowers.  
“It’s not very good, is it?” Orophin said, entering the room to place a tray with their meal on the table. “I wish I could paint as good as our mother.”  
“Was it she who painted the ones here?” Galion asked, motioning to the paintings on the wall and avoiding Orophin’s question for the moment.   
Orophin nodded. “Yes. I wish she was still here to teach me.”  
“What happened to her? Has she sailed?” Galion asked, hoping it was nothing worse.  
“Nothing happened to her, not really,” Orophin replied. “She and my father accompanied my grandparents to the Havens when they sailed. There she heard the call of the sea, but she will not sail until my brothers and I do. She and my father joined Lord Círdan’s household as she could not bear to leave the sight of the sea. Haldir is able to visit them when our Lord or Lady sends him to bear messages to Mithlond. But come and sit; our lunch is ready. Will you take wine with the meal?”   
Galion smiled as he took his place at the table. Over lunch they spoke of many things, from the differences in their lands and its wines to the breeding of farm animals. When they had finished, Galion sat back in his chair, replete and feeling content. “I could help you, you know,” he said.  
“Help me? With what?” Orophin asked, confused.  
“With your painting, if you would let me,” Galion answered.  
“You paint? Would you?” Orophin fairly bounced. Not only would he have someone who knew what they were doing to guide him, but it also meant that he could spend more time with the elder elf.  
“I am a passable painter, and have had some success with it,” Galion said modestly, not wanting to speak about the fact that even the king’s chambers were adorned with his work. He would love to teach Orophin some of his skills – and it would allow him to be close to the comely young elf. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “If I may be so bold as to make one suggestion?” At Orophin’s eager nod he continued. “You paint what your eyes see, and it is difficult to portray nature’s beauty with something as simple as brush and pigment. Paint instead what your heart sees. Let the light into your work and let the love you have for your land flow through your fingers to your painting. May I show you?”  
“Please,” Orophin replied, jumping up and moving to the painting with Galion.  
“Now,” Galion said, sitting in front of the painting and taking up a brush, “let us start with that tree.” He swiftly and expertly mixed several colors of paints, including some that were never consciously seen in a tree. With rapid, practiced movement, hand and brush moved over the painting, transforming the once stilted tree to a thing of light and movement. Satisfied with the results, he stopped and looked up at Orophin. “Do you see the difference?”  
“Yes, yes,” Orophin breathed. “Let me try.” Taking the seat Galion vacated, he carefully mixed colors and slowly started working on another tree. It wasn’t as good as Galion’s but it was a hundredfold better than it had been.   
They worked through the afternoon, and under Galion’s skilled guidance, the picture grew until it began to be seen that it would rival those upon the walls. When it was time to stop and ready themselves for dinner, Orophin shyly asked, “May we work again tomorrow? I do not mean to hoard your holiday time, but perhaps you could teach me just one more day? It is ever so much better and you have been so very kind to help me.”  
“It will be my pleasure to teach you as much as you wish,” Galion responded, smiling down at his new student. He would do anything to spend time with Orophin. Seeing the eagerness and joy on Orophin’s face, he was nearly overcome with the desire to take that beautiful face between his hands and kiss those enticing lips. ‘Bah,’ he thought, shoving the impulse aside. ‘What would a young elf like Orophin ever see in such an old one like me?’  
As the days passed, the two elves spent each morning wandering the paths of Lothlórien and exploring its beauty, and each afternoon in the great room of Orophin’s talon, working on the painting. When the painting was finally finished, Galion stood over Orophin as the younger elf carefully brushed his name onto the lower corner.   
“Well done!” Galion praised. “Well done indeed. Now it shows the true beauty of Lothlórien because it is from your heart. What will you do with it? Will you hang it on the wall here?”  
Orophin blushed under Galion’s praise as he tried to focus on cleaning the paint from his hands with a rag. “Haldir said he would be pleased to hang it on the wall, but I told him I wanted to give it to you…if you will accept it? I thought it would remind you of Lórien and of your time here.” Hesitating, he added, “Remind you of your time with me – of our friendship.” In their days together he had grown closer to the Mirkwood elf and dreaded the day that Galion would have to return to his home. Each day that had passed, the desire for Galion to hold him…kiss him…was greater than the last. Growing up, he had been attracted to other elves, but that attraction had soon passed. Those early infatuations were different than what he felt now. He looked up at Galion longingly.  
“I would be happy to accept your offer,” Galion whispered. “Are you sure you want to part with it?”  
“I am sure I want you to have it,” Orophin replied, his eyes never leaving Galion’s. He suddenly realized it was time for him to make a move or he would lose Galion forever when the Mirkwood elf returned home. Galion would never initiate anything because of their age difference. It was up to him. He set his cleaning rag aside and slowly moved to lay his hand over Galion’s resting on the back of the chair. “Very sure.”  
Slowly, inch by tortured inch, Galion leaned down until his face hovered just above Orophin’s. “You are sure?” he breathed. His hands caressed Orophin’s cheeks, just as he had so often dreamed of.   
The time for words done, Orophin simply nodded.   
Lips met in a gentle kiss before growing hungrier. After each parting for breath they surged together again in claiming kisses before Galion finally pulled Orophin up from the chair and wrapped his arms around the younger elf, holding him close. “Do you suppose that Celeborn and your brothers will allow you to return to Mirkwood with me? Perhaps a cultural exchange? Allow you to learn of other lands?”  
The sound of a throat clearing came from the room’s outer doorway. The tall Marchwarden leant jauntily against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his broad chest, an unmistakable grin of approval on his face. “I think something could be arranged, if Orophin desires it,” he said, giving his brother a wink.  
Orophin kept his arms wrapped around Galion, resting his head against the older elf’s chest. Smiling, his eyes met Haldir’s and then Galion’s. “I will go to Mirkwood with you,” he whispered. In his heart he knew he would be with Galion forever, but he also knew that he had to give their relationship time to grow.

Galion smiled. He couldn’t remember when he had felt so young and full of joy. Orophin made him want to sing. Maybe, just maybe, he’d finally found the love he had waited his whole life for.

~the end


End file.
